Pillow Talk
by athingsublime
Summary: Derek got sent to a medical conference in Chicago, and he's bored.


**Title:** Pillow Talk  
**Author:** a_thing_sublime  
**Summary:** Derek got sent to a medical conference in Chicago, and he's bored.  
**Pairing:** Derek/Meredith  
**Rating:** NC-17  
**Disclaimer:** All characters, events, settings and situations mentioned in this work are sole property of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for profit, in constitutes fair use.

Derek has developed a sixth sense for timing, it seems. Meredith was _just_ sliding into her side of the bed (because habits die hard) when she heard the phone vibrating inside her bag. Her anger at someone calling at the impossible hour of 2am quickly faded when her eyes landed on the caller ID.

"Hey," she answered sweetly, sliding back to bed.

"So," Derek said idly, staring up to the starry sky. "Chicago is beautiful, in its own gray, windy way, and my room has a porch with this great view of the city, and Michigan lake, and..."

"My heart goes out for your suffering, Der," Meredith laughed, fumbling with the hem of her shirt.

"... and I miss you. It's a damn big bed, and I don't like sleeping diagonally."

"It's lonely here, too," she revealed quietly. Meredith didn't enjoy admitting that she needed him, but on rare occasions... well he was entitled to know, no? And they _did_ settle into their own routine, resulting in two hard, sleepless nights since he went away.

"Mer..." he murmured, his voice suddenly husky and low. Meredith knew that voice – it was a voice that really meant to say, Take Your Pants Off, Darling, It's Play Time. "What are you wearing?"

It was hard to keep her laugh back. "Seriously, Derek? Seriously?" Now, Meredith loved sex. She really, truly did. Especially sex with Derek, which was never boring, or bad, or repetitive. It was just that... well, she liked her sex when the other person was actually, you know, there. In the same room (or kitchen or shower or field), not almost 2000 miles away.

"C'mon, Mer," he might've sounded a bit desperate, and it might've softened her a bit. If it'd make him happy, take some of the loneliness away...

"I stole one of your boxers," she admitted, "and the Dartmouth shirt."

"I like the Dartmouth shirt," and she could hear the wicked grin in his voice.

"You mostly like taking off of me," she corrected, now with her Sex Voice as well. Oh, Meredith could play this game, she definitely could. And she was, possibly, lonely and craving his touch as well – but with two more days left for his conference, this will just have to do.

"Yeah well... can you blame me?" he replied innocently. Derek came prepared for this phone-call, already only in his boxers, spread on the large chair in the porch. He was counting on being on the top floor and the late hour to keep him away from prying eyes. "I'm taking it off now," he murmured, the mere mental image of Meredith's exposed chest sending shivers through his entire body. "And then I kiss you, I kiss you until we're both breathless and I leave your lips, trailing kisses down your jaw line, your neck... and finally my mouth is on one nipple, while two of my fingers keep company to the other one."

Dammit. She could actually feel his mouth moving across her body, all their nights (and mornings, and afternoons) leaving their impact on her imagination. Meredith moans, quietly though because this is something she doesn't want to explain to her roommates tomorrow. "Hmm... it feels good, babe... I let my hands take control, let them travel down your torso, your waist, into your briefs... and I feel you harden against my hands, against my thighs..."

He had done phone sex before, after getting over thinking it was a stupid thing to do – it just never quite worked on him the way it did now. Derek was getting hard just from the image of half-naked Meredith, but damn, when she moaned like that; when she went along with his idea... she killed him, almost as much as she did during actual sex. His own hand now slid into his briefs, gently stroking his length, and he could almost believe those were Meredith's fingers on him. "I move to the other nipple, and it's so stiff in my mouth, I can't hold back from biting it lightly. And my hands are now both busy with taking off your boxers, my boxers, and once they are gone my thumb finds your clit, all swollen and waiting for me. I don't want to disappoint, so I'm making eight-like shapes on and around it..."

Meredith pushed sher/s his boxers down and slipped two fingers inside of herself, only slightly surprised to find out how wet she was already. It was, though, a bit difficult to handle all of this with just one hand, so she put the phone on speaker, and placed it on Derek's pillow. It should be low enough to be heard only in her room. "I push your briefs out of my way, and move my thumb and index finger up and down your length, and you're almost ready for me..."

He allows himself to groan loudly, careless of who might be awake to hear him right now. "My fingers slip in and out of you in a slow rhythm, but I can't wait long... I need you now, baby..." she's moaning in his ear, and it just about kills him. The descriptions, the images in his mind, knowing she too is touching herself now... "I roll you on your back, prop you legs up, and swiftly thrust into you. I start slow and..."

"... and pick up," she mutters between soft, muffled moans. Meredith can feel him. Those are her own fingers going in and out of her, but she makes them Derek's cock in her mind. "I pull your face down to mine and kiss you so hard, I'm afraid your lips may start to bleed. I keep one hand at the back of your head and the other moves down to cup your ass, to pull you closer and deeper into me." She picks up the pace of her fingers, and she knows she's close – and that he is too, if his panting is anything to judge by... and she knows it is, because if there was something she was ever an expert in, it was Derek during sex. She could teach a course about what he liked, how he liked it, when he liked it – and exactly the noises he made during each stage.

His fingers were moving faster and faster up and down his length, and his mind was racing like crazy, running through all of his sexual memories of Meredith, and there were plenty. "My muscles are aching from thrusting in and out so fast and so hard, but I can't stop, I won't stop... you tighten around me and it's the most amazing feeling I've ever felt..."

Meredith knows what he's rambling about, because she tightens around her own fingers when she finally comes, burying her face in the pillow as she cries out Derek's name, and various declarations of love to him and to God, who might as well be the same right now.

He's not muffling anything when he comes, screaming her name into Chicago's starry sky. Yes, phone sex has never, ever been this good before. Because it's Meredith, and Meredith showed him all along that anything he thought was the highest point before, is just a tiny hill for her. Meredith is a mountain, and he's still learning all the secret paths up.

She doesn't bother dressing up again when she settles comfortably in the bed, her hand idly placed on his pillow as the other hand gets the phone off speaker, and back to her ear. "Derek?"

"Hmm?" he murmurs, content with sleeping outside tonight. He needs something to cool him off after this.

"Tomorrow, 2am, I'll be waiting for your call," she orders, and before she hangs up, she hears him chuckle in reply.


End file.
